


recitation

by panndulce



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, originally for twt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panndulce/pseuds/panndulce
Summary: Yangyang first hears him around 11:00 PM one night, muffled above his bed.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	recitation

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by yangyang saying he likes when xiaojun speaks english/likes teasing him for repeating movie lines out loud.

Yangyang first hears him around 11:00 PM one night, muffled above his bed. He thinks it’s sleep-talking at first, and it’s a little creepy, sure, but not a big deal. 

Then, it keeps _going_ — and it’s absent-minded, maybe, but it sounds lucid enough. _That’s_ even creepier, so he sneaks out of bed, slowly, peeking his head up onto the top bunk. Xiaojun’s awake. The blue glow from his laptop casts an eerie shadow on his face when he suddenly turns towards Yangyang, almost knocking him backwards with how hard he _flinches_ — but he can confirm now, for sure, Xiaojun’s definitely awake. 

“Who are you talking to?” Yangyang whispers. 

“No one?” Xiaojun responds, like _Yangyang’s_ the weirdo. Yangyang launches himself up to get a better view of the laptop screen— some random Jude Law movie by the looks of it, another _cheese-fest_ Xiaojun eats up like a four-course meal. 

It clicks then. “Playing along?” His smirk is playful, but Xiaojun flushes, blue in the light still. “It’s good practice.” He frowns, shoving an earbud in Yangyang’s direction. Chinese subtitles, but English dialogue. Probably why it took a moment for Yangyang to even register the sounds above him as nothing to worry about, just something normal— as normal as most things Xiaojun does can be, at least. 

“I’ll try and be more quiet.” Xiaojun promises quietly, taking his earbud back and returning to his movie. Yangyang shrugs. “It’s cool with me. Just didn’t know.” 

He goes back to sleep easily afterwards, and immediately terrorizes Xiaojun with the worst British-English accent the moment they wake the next day— Kun sighs, pulling back Xiaojun from another on-the-hour, every-hour fight he has no context or hope of understanding.

-

Xiaojun _is_ quieter a couple nights later, but Yangyang can still hear him. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, staring up at darkness above him before he decides to climb out of bed again. He doesn’t want Xiaojun to feel bad about the habit, because it’s _not_ bad— it’s more _funny_ than anything else, because out of all the times Xiaojun’s tried to sneak up behind Yangyang to spook him and have it fall flat on his face, the one time he actually _does_ freak him out _would_ be both unintentional, _and_ the result of another weirdo habit of his. 

(Weird in a good way, though— the way almost every weird thing Xiaojun does is.)

“What poem are you reciting tonight, oh, great orator— _Titanic?_ _Really?_ ” 

Xiaojun frowns, but hands over an earbud to Yangyang’s open palm. Yangyang pulls himself up on the bunk, settles down next to Xiaojun, and they watch the last hour of the film together— not like Yangyang was really sleeping, anyway. 

Jack makes Rose promise she won’t let go onscreen, Xiaojun mirrors the lines with his eyes glued to the screen, and Yangyang muffles a giggle and a groan from Xiaojun punching his shoulder. “You’ll wake Kun.” Xiaojun warns, stifling his own laugh.

-

They don’t _just_ watch his sappy romance movies, on later nights. It’s a broad range of genres that they enjoy, and that Xiaojun will pulls lines from to suddenly recite, often as though he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it entirely— sometimes it’s just snippets, the last two or three words from a single line of dialogue repeated aimlessly, sometimes it’s one word repeated again and again, under this breath, sounding out the syllables and rolling them around on his tongue—

“When are you even gonna be saying any of this out loud.” Yangyang questions as they watch a knock-off Bond villain monologue about convoluted political intrigue.  
  
“ _Pronunciation_.” Xiaojun bites back, again, like Yangyang’s the one just _not_ getting it, and Yangyang will concede to that point, he guesses. He bumps their shoulder together, and Xiaojun smiles, betraying his annoyed tone, so they stay like that, pressed closer together. He can hear Xiaojun better this way, anyway.

Yangyang eventually picks up on the lines that seem to be Xiaojun’s favorites— passages that flow out easily in accented English, committed to memory. They don’t always make sense to Yangyang as to why those are his favorites— he thinks, perhaps, they hit somewhere deep inside Xiaojun and lay to rest there, ready to be summoned when the time comes, or there’s just a nice ring to them, and they feel good, spilling from his lips— either way, Yangyang finds himself committing them to memory too, while even finding his own unique lines he starts to mold his mouth around, like a fun tongue-twister keeping him busy while his mind drifts off to other things, other future nights, other reasons why Xiaojun’s voice seems to suit every line he recites so well.

-

They eventually do circle back to another romance movie one night. Romance in general isn’t Yangyang’s first pick, but this film is _particularly_ terrible— thanks entirely to the lack of chemistry between the leads, because _who_ could pretend to be interested in this cardboard cut-out of a leading man, robotically parroting sweet nothings into his alleged love interest’s ear?

Xiaojun, of course. He’s _enraptured._ There’s no way Yangyang’s going to sit through this entire snooze-fest like this engaged— watching the motion of Xiaojun’s expression throughout was way more interesting anyway. But Xiaojun’s also curiously silent. 

“You’re not gonna practice on this?” Yangyang asks, knocking on Xiaojun’s knee. Xiaojun’s knocked out of whatever thoughts he had, and shakes his head. “Why not?” Yangyang presses.

“Just not feeling it.” Xiaojun replies honestly enough— surprising, considering how into it he seemed. “It’s kind of...cheesy— _zip it._ ” He warns, and Yangyang decides it’s not worth arguing over. 

“Come on, just do it— it’ll be funny.” Yangyang nudges his side, and knocks their knees again accidentally. The top bunk is small. It was inevitable that they’d just press close together, staring at the same small screen, sharing warmth for the late-night temperature drop — yeah, _yeah_.

“Bet you could do a better job than _this_ dude, anyway.” 

“Don’t flatter me too much.” Xiaojun rolls his eyes, but it’s true— Xiaojun _could_ do a better job. The Generic Handsome Actor #42 onscreen sounds like he’d rather be dead than recite the cheesy love confession he’s been given from a bad script, something about devotion and ever-lasting romance and _Oh, who else could it be but you_ —

It just sounds so much better coming from Xiaojun, quiet in thought for just a moment before he turns towards Yangyang and sounds out the words slowly as they come, a deep timbre to his voice adding something no one else— _the actor onscreen_ — could. 

The words are whispered, because they don’t want to wake Kun. Xiaojun’s eyes are locked on his the entire time, leaning in just a breath closer, because Yangyang’s the one who asked him to do it. And Yangyang doesn’t look away, because Xiaojun sounds good as he recites the lines, trite and cheesy as they are— they flow, natural. 

When the film ends and they settle back into their own beds for the night, Yangyang barely remembers any of the lines at all— he closes his eyes and commits a quiet tone, dark eyes lit blue, and pure warmth to memory instead.

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is just something short and simple to try and get myself out a little writer’s block, and it was originally just meant to be posted on [twitter](https://twitter.com/papapann0) but it ended up just being kinda too long...i thought it’d just be too short/simple for ao3 and i still kinda feel that way but. we’re here now so lmao
> 
> thank you for reading! ♥️


End file.
